The Survival of Two

Broken

Heart racing, Osha fought to keep her eyes shut. She exhaled deeply, her lungs heavy and strained, and steadied her shaking hands. Still clutching the stones, she pushed away the urge to loosen her grip on them, instead pulling her focus to the dull ache in her palms where they dug into her skin.

Taking a step forward, Osha continued to drop a steady stream of pebbles. The water lapped at her calves, billowing the light fabric of her pants out around her. Fingers of icy water began soaking their way through the gossamer material. She recoiled at this intrusion, gulping in air as though she'd been attacked. Pushing aside her discomfort, she held her breath. It was not yet the wind's to take. Still slowly dropping pebbles, she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

Finally exhaling, their steady rhythm was joined by the beating of blood in her ears. Growing louder, she felt the blood surging through her veins, hot and alive. Vision tunneling, she locked onto a too-familiar landscape. Before her, her old master struggled to breathe, exertion forcing him to his knees. Funny, how he lacked the breath she now felt burning in her chest. Her pulse still throbbing in her ears like the persistent beat of a death march, Osha felt her grip on him tighten. She felt hot—constricted in her long jacket. She looked down at the pathetic man, seeing nothing but forgiveness in his watery eyes. The seams of her jacket dug into her flesh, prickling her nerves. Her face was burning. Her back felt damp, pinpricks of sweat erupting across her skin. Her collar was too high—the coarse fabric scratched at her throat like grasping hands. She clutched the lightsaber at her side, her fingers going pale from the pressure. Through this whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and stimuli, her body remained motionless. Soon his was too. She felt her lungs relax, her breath steady—as if the air she'd forced from his body now filled hers. His corpse lay crumpled, like a child having fallen asleep whilst listening to a story from a parent. The thought repulsed her. He appeared undeservingly peaceful. He'd left the mangled corpses of children and childhoods in his wake as long as he'd been a Jedi; if the universe were just, his body would lie as broken as he had left her.